


Reverent

by thedevilchicken



Category: The King (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Churches & Cathedrals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28142097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: Hal and Louis are married. Louis has ideas about how  - and where - their marriage should be consummated.
Relationships: The Dauphin/Henry V of England
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Reverent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spock/gifts).



"A marriage should be consummated," Louis said. "Is that not the way of things in England, or do your genitals shrivel at the thought of sex?"

It should have struck him as absurd, the ridiculous notion of it in that particular ridiculous voice, but Hal just gestured exasperatedly at the altar by which they were standing. All other guests and officials had vacated the cathedral once the ceremony had concluded and left them there alone; Louis had waved his hands and shooed them like a gaggle of unruly geese until they'd frowned and looked to Hal for guidance, and all he'd had the will to do was tell them, _Gentlemen, my husband wishes you to leave us._ Then he'd crossed his arms over his chest and added, pointedly, _As do I._ They'd left. And there they were, a king and his amused king consort. 

"Here?" Hal said. "Honestly, do you think you could have chosen anywhere _less_ appropriate?"

Louis smiled. It was one of those gleeful smiles where his eyes crinkled and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, like that might help him keep from laughing out loud and clapping his hands as he did so; Hal hadn't known him deny himself much of anything at all in the admittedly brief time they'd been acquainted, however. Louis was unrepentant hedonism given human form, laughing at life and the world and himself. And at Hal. Mostly, since his arrival there at the English court, he laughed at Hal. Oddly, for a man who'd sailed to war over a fucking ball, Hal found he didn't mind that. 

"Can you think of anywhere _more_ appropriate?" Louis asked. He crossed himself with a pseudo-serious expression on his face that didn't quite chase off his smile, then he kissed his hand to the crucifix. He did so in an ostentatious manner rather more suited to bidding a lover farewell than saluting Jesus Christ, then he returned his gaze to Hal with exactly as much reverence - which was to say none at all. "We're in the sight of God. Did the bishop not just ask that he bless our union?"

"I don't think that's precisely what the bishop meant by blessing our union," Hal replied. 

"I don't think the bishop lacks the practical experience to know what he meant."

Hal narrowed his eyes at him warily. "I might regret asking this but what do _you_ mean?" he asked. "With all joking aside, for once."

Louis' smile broadened. He positively beamed, more beatific than any of the saints. "We should fuck," he said, cheerfully, and stepped forward to pat the altar with one many-ringed hand. "Here. Now. Before either of us can change his mind." 

"I'm not sure I've made up my mind to begin with."

Louis patted his cheek. "Of course you have," he said. He gestured at himself, grandly, both hands sweeping downwards. "You find me irresistible. This is only natural." 

Hal gave him the most withering look he could summon, but it appeared to have very little effect because all he did was tilt his head flirtatiously and bite his lip again. Hal was tempted to say he looked like a well-dressed prostitute, standing there in his colourful velvets and silks, but if he did look like a prostitute then he'd have been the most expensive one whose company he'd paid for and, as it happened, no money had changed hands. Louis' father had proposed something quite different, which Hal had to admit he'd accepted as much with his prick as his perspicacity. So here they were, on English soil, in a church, not ten minutes wed. 

The war wouldn't claim another life, just perhaps a _petite mort_ if Louis had his way. And Louis was, of course, going to have his way. For all his grumbling, it was a fact to which Hal already found himself entirely resigned. 

"Do you intend to do it fully dressed?" Hal asked. "Or are you planning to put on a show for the Lord Almighty?"

Louis seemed to weigh these options, tapping the tips of his fingers against his smiling lips and casting his gaze skywards, though Hal did not expect for a second that he was praying for guidance. Then he set about unbuttoning his doublet and frankly, Hal found himself half surprised that he knew how to; Louis seemed the sort of prince who might require at least one servant to undress him, and since they were currently lacking in attendants Hal might have been persuaded to fill that station for him. But Louis undressed. Shivering slightly with the chill of the smoky, perfumed air, he took off his clothes until he stood there on top of them to keep his bare feet off the cold stone floor. He stripped down to his skin and his new crown and the rings on his fingers, but then he raised both hands and removed the crown. He set it down on the altar and turned to Hal, naked, and somehow unsurprisingly half hard. 

"Now I am just your husband, yes?" he said, and then took Henry's crown, too. He set it down by his own. "Now we are just Henry and Louis." 

"Oh, I doubt very much that you're ever only Louis," Hal replied, but his gaze was drawn by the way Louis' ringed fingers strayed down to his own cock. He stroked, undeterred by the fact that Hal was watching, or perhaps entirely spurred on by it. Likely the latter, Hal thought, judging by the hard cast to his eyes as he gave himself a languid stroke. Hal couldn't help but think that there was more calculation in that look than in his entire council. He might have been sold to England to broker peace, but Hal knew Louis would never allow himself to be just a pretty French ornament at King Henry's court. 

The room was all cold stone and the smell of incense almost thick enough to choke him on. But Louis took his hands and stepped in close and smiled and though the fact of where they were didn't escape him, it was simple to allow his senses to converge on him. 

"How do you want me?" Louis asked. 

He had a few ideas, he thought. And he wondered if he should be concerned that Louis had many more, but he looked forward to finding out each and every one of them.


End file.
